Just then, a beast's roar came from behind Chen Ming. He turned to look, but saw nothing.
His sense of danger instinctively prompted him to summon his Flying Sword. A whistle tore through the air from afar as a Blazing Purple Tiger sprang toward him.
Chen Ming maneuvered his sword in front of him to block, but how could the Blazing Purple Tiger's charge be stopped so easily? The blade slammed back against his body, and he was sent flying into the mountainside.
He sank into the rock, throwing up clouds of dust. "Cough, cough!" After coughing twice, Chen Ming pulled himself out of the mountainside. Seeing the Blazing Purple Tiger charging at him again, he hurriedly rose on his sword.
Though the Blazing Purple Tiger was powerful, it unfortunately could not fly. Seeing Chen Ming rise into the air, it could only leap at him, but its limited reach left it pouncing at empty air.
At this sight, Chen Ming did not leave. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and used the Fireball Technique, hurling fireballs at the Blazing Purple Tiger below.
The Blazing Purple Tiger ranked among the strongest second-tier demonic beasts. Its strength surpassed even that of an average late Foundation Establishment cultivator.
Second-tier demonic beasts generally had no special abilities. Only upon reaching the third tier would they develop innate abilities similar to cultivators' spells.
As Chen Ming kept provoking it, the Blazing Purple Tiger repeatedly leaped at him. Unable to reach him, it could only turn and leave.
Seeing it run off, Chen Ming hurried after it, continuing to fling fireballs at it. They inflicted little damage, and not even one in ten hit, but the Blazing Purple Tiger ran extremely fast.
Like the most patient hunter, Chen Ming followed the Blazing Purple Tiger's mad dash, drawing the furious beast all the way toward the secret lair where it had hidden for years.
In less than half an incense stick's time, the Blazing Purple Tiger plunged into a secluded cave half concealed by vines. The damp, rank odor drifting from its entrance was clearly detectable even several dozen feet away.
Chen Ming did not rashly land and enter the narrow cave. He circled several times above the boulder over its entrance, took several packets of poison powder from his Storage Bag, and flicked his wrist, tossing them all inside.
Immediately afterward, he formed the hand seals for the Wind Blade Art. Sharp blue-green blades of wind sliced through and dispersed the poison powder hanging at the entrance, sending the pale green mist deeper into the cave on its air currents. Afraid the cave's dampness would wet the powder and weaken its potency, he followed with a Water Ball Technique. The fine spray from the bursting ball enveloped the poison mist, shrouding the entire cave entrance like an invisible net.
After half an incense stick's time, the expected roars and commotion still had not come from within. Chen Ming hesitated no longer. He flew on his sword to the opposite peak and channeled wood- and earth-aspected spiritual light through both hands. A blade of spiritual light condensed at his fingertips and hacked fiercely into the cliff. With a thunderous crash, he forcibly cut a half-man-high boulder weighing a thousand catties from the rock face.
Supporting the boulder, he flew back on his sword and used the momentum of his dive to lodge it firmly in the cave entrance, leaving not even the slightest gap.
Having done all this, he took out every remaining bit of poison powder in his Storage Bag and carefully scattered it over the ground within three meters of the cave, into cracks in the rocks, and even along the crevices around the boulder blocking the entrance. Only when a thin, pale green mist had wrapped the entire little mountain hollow in a strange fragrance did he finally turn his sword's light around in satisfaction and slowly fly toward the Sect on his Azure Glow Sword.
Early the next morning, before the first ray of daylight pierced the clouds, Chen Ming had already opened his eyes.
Spiritual energy suffused the house. Seated on his cushion, he breathed slowly, gathering his mind into his dantian after a night of recuperation.
Sealing the cave and scattering poison the night before had seemed as effortless as flowing clouds and running water, but it had actually consumed nearly thirty percent of his spiritual power. The final Water Ball Technique and the task of moving the enormous boulder had demanded especially precise spell control.
He rose and stretched, his bones giving a series of faint pops. Then he summoned the Azure Glow Sword and streaked south through the sky.
The journey took three full days.
The Azure Glow Sword passed through seas of clouds and over the rivers of the mortal world. Along the way, lush mountains and valleys gave way to barren terrain, before mortal villages and wisps of cooking smoke gradually appeared. At dusk on the third day, the outline of a gray-white city emerged on the horizon—White Sand City.
Named after the White Sand River ten li north of it, this city was one of the few places in the mortal world where people from every creed and walk of life gathered.
There were warriors escorting caravans, merchants selling rare treasures, and many low-level cultivators like Chen Ming, disguised as itinerant physicians or herb gatherers. The city's rules were simple: as long as they caused no major disturbance and took no mortal lives, the authorities never interfered in disputes between cultivators.
Chen Ming put away his Flying Sword, changed into an ordinary gray cloth robe, concealed all his spiritual radiance, and entered the gates among the stream of people.
He did not head straight for the large pharmacies bearing signs such as "Spring Restoration Hall" and "World Relief House." Instead, he sought out shabby little shops tucked into street corners and alley ends, their medicinal smells mingling together. Their proprietors were mostly mortals with some knowledge of medicine or independent cultivators with only a patchy understanding. The shops were piled with nameless roots and bark, making them better places to unearth obscure ingredients.
"Shopkeeper, how much is this heart-rot grass?"
"You have a good eye, sir. This came from the southern borderlands, and it's fiercely poisonous. One tael of silver per stalk."
"Too expensive. Eight mace, and I'll take ten stalks."
"Tsk... fine. Here's hoping you'll come back!"
Similar bargaining played out in one pharmacy after another.
Chen Ming spent generously, yet he specifically chose poisonous herbs whose properties conflicted, some of which would even harm the user if taken alone.
Ghost-crying vine sap, heartbreak red stamens, corpse-oil moss spores... he bought every ingredient that could strengthen the Bone-Eroding Smoke's ability to numb nerves and corrode a demonic beast's protective aura.
Occasionally, when he encountered supplementary herbs that had not matured sufficiently, he offered thirty percent above market price to purchase them, determined to assemble the optimal blend.
By the time he reached the final shop, it was dark. Hidden in a narrow, shaded alley, the shop had no sign at its entrance, only a string of dried snakeskins hanging from its doorframe.
Chen Ming lifted the curtain and entered, meeting a heavy, sickly-sweet, rank odor. A gaunt old man, blind in one eye, sat behind the counter, scraping an unidentified animal bone with his fingernail.
"Do you have any red scorpion tail?"
Chen Ming asked.
The old man's lone eye shifted, but he did not look up. "Yes, but only three inches remain, and it's old stock from five years ago."
"Let me see it."
A shriveled, blackened scorpion tail was tossed onto the counter. Chen Ming brushed his fingertips over it, sending in a minute thread of spiritual power. He confirmed that although most of the poison had dissipated, its essence remained intact, making it suitable as a catalyst. "Wrap it up. Also, do you have any earthcore fire milk?"
The old man finally looked up, a flicker of surprise crossing his cloudy eye. "You certainly know your goods, young man... I don't have any fire milk, but I do have half a bottle of lava mud dug from a volcanic crater. It has some fire energy in it, at least."
"I'll take both."
Only when the moon stood high overhead did Chen Ming leave the alley carrying several heavy pouches of medicinal ingredients. He did not linger in the city. Heading straight out, he found a secluded hillside, summoned the Azure Glow Sword, and set off through the night toward the Sect.
After another three days of travel, he landed on the bluestone clearing outside his house just as the eastern sky began to turn the pale white of a fish's belly.
He put the medicine pouches into his Storage Bag one by one and pushed the door open. The familiar cool air inside washed over him, finally easing his taut nerves.
The days that followed were devoted to refining poison.
He set up a simple soundproofing restriction in front of the house before emptying everything from his Storage Bag.
Poisonous herbs, minerals, and demonic beast materials filled half the stone chamber. Beside them, more than a dozen bronze medicine vessels of varying sizes stood in a row, the runes engraved on their surfaces faintly shimmering in the dim light.
First, he took the remaining packets of Bone-Eroding Smoke powder and poured them into a jade mortar to grind finely. He added powdered heart-rot grass from his new purchases, then slowly activated its medicinal properties with wood spiritual power.
Next, he dripped ghost-crying vine sap into another vessel. Black fumes immediately rose from it, which he isolated with the Wind Blade Art. The lava mud was the hardest to process. He had to calcine it repeatedly with fire spiritual power to force out the dry earthfire energy it contained, then blend that with the red scorpion tail's venom.
The process allowed no room for error. Even a slight deviation in the proportions of poison powder could render it ineffective at best, or cause the ingredients to clash and burst into flame at worst.
Chen Ming focused completely, controlling the heat and stirring force with hair-fine precision through the spiritual power at his fingertips. Sweat trickled down his temples, but he remained oblivious, his eyes fixed solely on the churning, merging, color-changing liquids and powders.
For three days and nights, a strange fragrance filled the house, nauseating anyone who smelled it. Only after the final wisp of pale purple smoke had been drawn into a specially made jade bottle did Chen Ming release a long breath. His face was somewhat pale, but his eyes shone with startling brightness.
He named the newly refined poison the Purple-Fiend Throat-Sealing Powder. Far more toxic than the Bone-Eroding Smoke, it could slip through any gap and work its way backward along a demonic beast's protective aura to corrode its meridians. Once inhaled, not even an immortal could save the victim.
He stroked the cold jade bottle, a chilling smile curling his lips. Let's see you survive this! The more he thought about it, the louder he laughed.
He rushed outside in excitement and flew off on his sword. Yet when Chen Ming reached the Blazing Purple Tiger's cave again, the boulder that had sealed the entrance had been shattered at some unknown point, exposing the cave mouth once more. Looking at the poison powder scattered around it, he found only a trail of beast tracks leading away.
Faced with this situation, Chen Ming could only leave helplessly.
Unable to beat it in a fight or catch it with a trick, Chen Ming's mood abruptly soured. All those days of frantic work, and this was the result.
That makes sense. Demonic beasts aren't stupid. Normally, their sense of danger is far stronger than ours. With that thought, Chen Ming rose into the air on the Azure Glow Sword and headed toward Blackstone Market.
Yet Chen Ming did not know that, just moments before, a pair of eyes gleaming with an eerie light had been watching the area. Only after seeing Chen Ming leave did their owner turn and depart.